


In Memory Of The Fallen

by Zooobly



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Humans are space orcs, War, Wartime Contemplations, memorial, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28611267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zooobly/pseuds/Zooobly
Summary: She always felt small standing in front of the wall.This was written for the prompt 'In Memory Of The Fallen' in the Space Orcs Discord Server.
Kudos: 13
Collections: Humans Are Space Orcs





	In Memory Of The Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the prompt 'In Memory Of The Fallen' in the Space Orcs Discord Server.  
> This is very generic on purpose and will remain as it is.

She always felt small standing in front of the wall, her fingers hovering over the names, never quite touching. Not that the wall was all that high, maybe 8 or 9 foot. But it span to the left and right as far as her eye could see. The rows of names hadn’t yet reached her chest. When she was younger, she had tried counting all of the names but had run out of numbers well before reaching even the third row up from the ground. Now that she was older she knew that there were names added every day and trying to count them all would be an exercise of impossibility. Still, she stood in front of the monument, counting names, wondering about the people behind them.

Every so often she would come across familiar names, a widely known general or a soldier whose sacrifice cemented him in the peoples minds as a hero. But for every one of those names she knew there were dozens upon dozens of names that had been forgotten. By everyone, it seemed, except for the families they left behind. But those names in the first rows were old and sometimes she wondered if anyone still remembered them at all. Was there a grandson, visiting his grandfather’s name every once in a while? Or a daughter, now old herself, lovingly caressing her parent’s names? She would never know, she supposed. But then, she herself visited her family here: Her great-grandmother, one of the names in the very first row, her great-uncle only a row further up. Both her parents, right next to each other in row seven and then… Her brother, his name still pristine and clear to read, only put there less than a week ago in the very last row. She stared mutely at his name, remembering his laugh and his smile. She was the last of her family, the last one not yet consumed by this seemingly endless war. But even she was preparing for deployment. Sometimes she wondered.

When her name would be added to this wall, who would remember her?


End file.
